House Unity
by Violetta Caine
Summary: Maybe house unity would be possible, after all. Or maybe it was them that was possible. Either way, it was a start." A collection of dramione drabbles. They aren't in any particular order. DMHG
1. A beginning

(A/N: This drabble was written for dmhgchallenge on livejournal. The prompt was "A Beginning.")

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Hermione was irritated. His attitude wasn't helping any.

"You're an arse."

He smiled. "I know."

She stared at him. "And yet I should trust you?"

"You already have by meeting me here," he laughed.

Hermione's eyes flashed as her temper bubbled up. Marching over, she slapped him, hard. Draco glared at her furiously and shoved her against the wall, kissing her forcefully.

And as her body surrendered to his kiss, a remote part of Hermione's brain observed that maybe house unity would be possible, after all. Or maybe it was them that was possible.

Either way, it was a start.

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	2. A Not So Crisp White Shirt

(A/N: A second story in less than a day! You lucky readers, you! This one was written for the livejournal challenge, dramione_ldws. The prompt was the quote at the beginning of the story.)

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"What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance."  
~ Jane Austen ~

He was leaning against the balcony, his not-so-crisp white shirt tossed aside carelessly. And if she hadn't known better, she'd've said that his tousled hair had been styled into that state of perfect inelegance. But no, that was the effect of running one's hands through it. She smiled. She would know.

She caught herself ogling her husband and shook herself out of her reverie.

"Stressful day, love?" she asked him.

He snorted. "As if there's any other kind."

She sighed and walked over to stand next to him at the railing. "I know." She was quiet for a minute, staring out at the fields behind the Manor. "What was the emergency meeting about?" she asked.

He laughed once, bitterly. "I have no idea."

She moved to stand behind him, resting her chin on his bare, sweaty shoulder. "That bad?"

"Yeah. The cooling charms still aren't working. It was so bloody hot, nobody could concentrate."

"Poor baby," she murmured, and began to rub his shoulders.

He sighed happily. Her fingers dug into his back, tugging the stress from his muscles. As her palms drifted up his back, he let his forehead drop to the railing.

"Thanks," he whispered.

She smiled. "You're welcome."

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	3. Names

(A/N: This is what happens when I write at 2 AM in the morning. Very Scary. Warning: Draco is kinda... obsessive.)

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He could've had any girl he wanted. With his looks, and his bank account, no girl could resist being the one on his arm.

And he'd had every girl he wanted. He'd had Tanya's, and Sarah's, and Haley's, and a whole collection of girls.

But never a Hermione.

Such a beautiful girl, with those long legs, those soulful brown eyes, and such a uniquely beautiful name, no man could resist her, least of all him.

But when other men met her intelligence, her sly humor, and her take- charge attitude, they couldn't cope with it. They'd leave her for the next idiot they could find, just to escape intelligent conversation.

But he wouldn't do that. Her brilliant mind only made her beauty more apparent, more radiant. Her wit was a savory treat that he would never find in a Tanya, or a Haley, or any of the others. And when he finally caught her, he'd definitely enjoy the benefits of her bossiness.

And as for the next idiot... Well, he might never be able to go back to the vapid anacondas he usually dated.

That was actually the reason he'd decided to go after his beautiful Hermione now instead of waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself.

No, instead, he was going to chase after her. He'd had enough waiting. It would take more work, but he'd convince her. Somehow.

When he walked into her office that morning, he was greeted with the sight of an angry goddess's wrath as she threw one of her prized books in an employee's face. "No, I will NOT let you take a week off that you DIDN'T EARN!" she screamed. "Now get OUT!"

The man scurried off, looking scared beyond his wits.

She ran her ink- stained fingers through her hair and glanced up at him. "And what are you looking at?" she asked sourly.

He smiled. "You."

She huffed. "Well, obviously. Let's try another one: What do you need?"

He considered that for a moment, wondering what he should say. He nearly laughed aloud as the answer came to him.

"You."


End file.
